Under Strange Circumstances
by Breggo13
Summary: Keladry gets thrown into Middle Earth the day after she accepts Raoul's offer. There she meets young Boromir. When she is rescued by him, she finds him a great friend. But when the Ring of Power is found, may there be more than friendship? Slightly AU!
1. Prologue

"Keladry! What in the world could take that girl so long?" Sir Raoul bellowed good naturally as he easily swung up onto Amberfire and turned the beautiful mare in a circle. His tall frame made it easy for him to see if any one of the King's Own was missing. Today they were heading out, settling disputes between centaurs and commoners. As he rode briskly down the column of young noblemen, making sure that everyone was ready, he still couldn't make out his own squire. His amused eyes were sparkling, not only because he was happy to get away from the palace but also because he was worried. He had taken in Keladry of Mindelan just mere days ago to be his squire and he was aching to see her in action.

"Milord," a girl's voice caught the Commander of guard. Halting his mare, he whipped around to see his squire ride beside one of his sergeants. The girl's face was calm, perhaps slightly flushed but her eyes sparkled with laughter and eagerness. Her hair had grown longer over the summer, hanging now below her shoulders in light brown locks. To keep it out of her eyes, Kel had tied it back with a sting of leather but still some pieces escaped. Her own frame was tall for a girl yet even in the saddle she was shorter than Raoul. Wearing the colors of his house, green and gold, Kel looked older. She's a late bloomer, Raoul thought as he shook his head, but when she blooms, she will be the most beautiful flower of all.

"Come on squire! We have wasted enough time!" Raoul gave her a light pat on the shoulder. "Normally our remounts go in a string at the rear—the servingmen lead them with the supply train. We'll make an exception for Peachblossom. You ride a neck length behind back on my left, and keep him with you. Behave," The knight commander turned to the red roan gelding that Kel was leading behind her mare. The small charger slightly turned his large head to the side and practically raised one of his eyebrows. "Or I'll muzzle you like a dog!"

The gelding shook his head and pranced in the spot. Raoul smiled as did most of the warriors who saw the exchange between the "testy pony" and their commander. Turning his long legged bay around, Raoul rode back to the font, Kel following him without as much as a word. Getting back before the gates, Raoul looked right. Lerant of Eldorne, the tall lanky youth, was in position, the flag in his hand flapping slightly in the wind. To the right of the standard-bearer, surrounded by six pure bread wolf hounds sat Captain Flyndan Whiteford, grimacing at the rising sun.

Smiling to himself, Raoul looked to his left and was pleased to see Kel gazing at the Third Company with large brown eyes, sparrows sitting on Peachblossom's mane and Jump curled in the basket attached to Hoshi's saddle. Giving a small lecture about the proper attention needed in this raid, Raoul gave the sign and nudged Amber into an easy trot. The company took off, all the knights dressed in blue, silver and white while all riding beautifully bred steeds. At the back of the two grand columns, rode the servingmen dressed in white and blue, leading most of the spare mounts and the supply train.

"At least we will eat well enough," Kel mused talking to her animals and no one in particular. Raoul smiled and winked to Flyn, who still in grim good humour just rolled his eyes.

"We do try to eat," The King's Own Commander called back to the girl. "I go all faint if I don't get fed regularly. Only think of the disgrace to the King's Own if I fell from the saddle."

"But there was that time in Fanwood," Flyn mussed loudly right on cue. Raoul turned sharply to him and nodded slightly in thanks. Flyndan smirked, pleased with himself.

"The wedding in Tameran," added someone further down the line.

"Don't forget when what's-his-name, with the army, retired!" yelled a third voice, belonging to Gildes of Veldine.

"Silence, insubordinate curs!" cried Sir Raoul in mock anger. "Do not sully my new squire's ears with your profane tales!" He was happy to see the amused, open smile on Kel's face as she regarded the Own laugh at him at his own expense.

"Even if they are true?" Domitan of Masbolle's voice sounded loud and clear. Kel blushed at the comment and raised he eyes up to Raoul's laughing green one's.

"Especially if they are true!" Raoul laughed, kicking Amber into a light gallop, forcing the laughing men to follow his lead. As they rode on towards the rising sun, Kel kept smiling at the coming four years.

"Okay, we'll stop here for breakfast!" Raoul called, raising his hand. The company slowed to an easy walk, Kel a beat behind. Shaking her head, she easily dismounted the calm mare and grabbing the reins of both Hoshi and Peachblossom, headed to Raoul. Tacking Amberfire's reins, Kel gave her master a triumphal smile and turned around. After a few steps she turned back to face him.

"Sir, you must teach me the signs sometime," Kel smiled at the man and turning again, led the three horses to the river. The Commander ran a hand through his thick black hair. The girl was a hard worker. Smiling to himself, Raoul headed to where the rest of the men were getting the morning feast ready. Choosing to sit beside Flyndan, he closed his eyes, sighed contently and put his hands behind his head.

"Well Raoul, you look as happy as a stuffed lion," the captain remarked as he continued to skin a rabbit that one of his dogs brought him. The animals were sniffing around, eagerly pocking their noses in bushes and chasing small creatures. The trees around their temporary camp were filled with singing birds.

"Flyn, I told you that gal is a dream. She doesn't even need instructions. Strong-willed, calm, sensitive..." Raoul opened one eye to see that his friend was laughing to his heart's content. "What's so funny?"

"Well, now that you ask," Flyn was still grinning yet his eyes became serious once more. "You are talking about her like she is a new horse that you acquired, perfectly trained and tempered. You have to remember that she is a squire. Maybe not a _true_ squire in my mind, but a squire never less. Please talk about her that way and not as if you want to marry her. There will be rumours enough."

"Sorry Flyn," Raoul waved away the comment with good humour. "I got carried away. I just forgot what it's like to have a squire nearby. The last one I took in ended up being killed by the girl who he slept with. Scary story!" Both men became quiet. Slow time passed before Flyndan putting down the skinned rabbit looked around.

"Damn it! Where is she?" he asked looking in the direction of the stream. Three horses stood grazing, the reins dangling on the ground.

"What do you mean?" Raoul was up in a flash, looking where Hoshi, Peachblossom and Amberfire were all nibbling on grass. There was no sign of the girl, neither in the water nor the surroundings. Raoul swore. "God damn that girl!"

Kel fell. She didn't even know how it happened. One moment she was standing in on the bank of the small stream, letting the three steeds drink to their content when the next some unknown force pushed her. It was so unexpected that Kel wasn't even sure it happened until she was slowly falling deeper and deeper into what appeared a shallow creek. Kel didn't feel fear or anger. She just thought about her short life and how she would never truly be a knight. That was what hurt the most.

The water made her loath for breath, but now she was too far away from the surface to even bother trying. All around her was dark, cold water. It felt different now to Kel though she didn't know why. Her thoughts travelled to all the happy moments she experienced in life. The gifts she got. Her numb fingers reached for the hilt of her sword. The wonderful sword from the Raven's armoury from her unknown benefactor. She also thought about Jump and Peachblossom, the two faithful animals who believed in her and helped her. She remembered the sparrows, her loyal little messengers and helpers.

Kel's heart slowed, her eyes closed and the vivid memories became faster, shaper. She thought of her friends; the tall red haired Cleon, the young bold Merric, the always battle ready Owen, the quiet Prosper, the easygoing Seaver, the thoughtful Roald. Finally, Kel's mind stopped on Neal. The tall, brown haired, green eye Neal. The one who was always trying to prove something with debates. The one that no matter what always got into trouble because of his long tongue. The one whom Kel secretly loved and admired. How many times has he helped her? Believed in her? How many laughs and happy times had they shared? Kel didn't want to think. She and Neal had bonded in no way she would be able to with anyone else. They were the odd ones out. They were different.

Slowly, the lack of air and oxygen caused her to stop thinking. Her eyes started to close; her mouth parted slightly letting the oxygen slowly escape her lungs. Her long hair was tangled and escaping the leather cord with which she tied it back. With the last intake of strength, Kel looked up and was surprised to see that the water wasn't that deep. Swimming up to the surface with the last of her strength, breaking the water with her palms, Kel inhaled a big breath and exhaled. The current was strong. Half swimming, half letting the water take her, the young girl made it to solid ground. Gabbing to a low hanging branch, Kel sighed and pulled herself up so she was hanging there without the possibility to fall back into the water. Closing her eyes, she fell out cold.

"Sir Boromir! Look there!" a solider came riding up to the two young brothers who were now arguing. Breaking their momentary disagreement, the older one turned to look at the man at arms. Dressed in a plain blue tunic, a leather vest and only his dark cape, it was hard to know that this young man was one of the best fighters Middle Earth has ever seen.

"What is it?" Boromir turned slightly annoyed to the man. His younger brother Faramir followed suit. The two brothers have taken the opportunity of temporary peace to go hunting yet so far their luck has been slim. They were unable to catch a single animal.

"Milord, there is a young maiden in the Girlain. She seems dead or at least out cold," the man made a sign against evil. Faramir gasped. Being a young lad of thirteen he was not used to rescues of ladies. Boromir was five years older but he was also out of luck. Just having proved himself as a great leader in both the war and the overall run of the city, Boromir never had been interested in ladies and he never had the fortune to rescue one. Gulping and exchanging looks with Faramir, he faced the solider.

"Can you show me where you saw her?" the man at arms nodded and turned his chestnut mare back the way he came. Taking a deep breath, both lads got their chargers to respond.

"Nice going Boromir," Faramir mussed, laughing nervously. His brother shot him a dark look. "I mean, why are we going to bother rescuing some silly girl who we don't even know just because our man servant tells us he saw her unconscious?"

"Sometimes Faramir, I wonder if you have a mind at all," Boromir snapped at the young lad but quickly regained his temper. He was just nervous. "If the army comes looking for me to rescue someone, I must do so. It is an unwritten code of leadership and knights. You know 'protect the weak and small'. That's what we do whenever we go fight. We leave behind women, elders and children so we can protect them."

"So just because a solider tells you that you have to save a girl, you take off?" Faramir shook his head, his blond wavy locks following the motion. His grey blue eyes sparkled with animation and slight confusion. Boromir had to smile slightly as he watched his younger but with a throb of his head, he once again focussed on the task at hand. The solider had dismounted his mare and was waiting for the two young lords with a worried expression.

"Someday you will understand Faramir," Boromir promised and hitting his bay on the sides with a twig, raced the last couple yards to the end of the river, pulling the animal short before he could fall of the bank. Swinging easily off the stallion, the young commander handed the man his reins and looked out to the river. Faramir was just arriving, deciding to ponder on his brother's words, so Boromir had time to fully take in the situation. Out in the middle of the Girlain River, hanging limp on a branch was a young girl. Her fairly short brown hair was limp, covering most of her face from view. She wore a green tunic with golden breaches and leather boots. On her belt hanged a sword of good quality, which surprised Boromir to no end. He heard of the young Lady Eowyn, the White lady of Rohan who was skilled with a sword but he never thought that was true.

"Sir?" the man walked over after tying both horses to a nearby branch. "What will be your plan of action?" Surprised and slightly embarrassed from being caught starring at a strange maiden, Boromir forced himself to move his gaze back to the task at hand.

"Um, could you give me a minute?" he asked as he backed away from the river and sat down beside a tree. He didn't have much time he knew, but he wasn't in a hurry to jump into the strong flowing waters of the river. Taking out his boot knife, the young leader started twirling it in his hand. He needed to come up with a plan fast; the river's fast currents were already moving the branch upon which the girl was hanging. Looking back to his steed, he noticed the cord of rope that was hanging from his saddle. Suddenly he figured everything out. "Faramir, get over here!" Boromir cried jumping up and racing to his bay.

"What? The mighty leader has a plan?" the youngster joked but obediently followed his older brother.

"Can you shoot so that the arrow hits that tree exactly?" Boromir asked, tying the rope to an arrow. Faramir raised an eyebrow but solemnly shook his head in silent agreement. Taking the arrow from Boromir, the young lad took aim from his bow, a beautifully crafted weapon. The arrow shot into the air and after a slight hesitation, hit the branch dead on. Faramir smiled contently and looked at his brother. The young commander was already fastening the last knot of the rope around the tree. Turning to Faramir, Boromir handed him his cape and leather vest along with his sword and dagger.

"What are you planning to do?" worry was slightly sounding in the youngster's voice. He might mock his brother, might laugh at him or argue with him but Faramir couldn't watch him get hurt over a silly unknown girl.

"Relax and watch," Boromir smirked as he jumped up onto the rope. Taking a deep breath, the young knight took a step, lost his balance and had to rush a few smaller steps to regain it. Boromir breathed out, sweat gathering at the palms of his hands. Looking down, he confirmed that he was already above the rushing river. That didn't help calm the tall, brave youth. He would have rather preferred to ride into battle. Taking another breath, slightly bending his knees, Boromir took another step then waited until he felt balanced again. Another step and then some more waiting. This way he progressed slowly towards the limp form of the girl. Five steps left...then four...Boromir was about to place his foot of the rope but at that moment the rope lured and losing his footing Boromir nearly tumbled into Girlain. Before he completely fell, somehow he managed to grab hold onto the rope.

"Boromir!" Faramir's voice was full of concern and as he lunged for the rope, the only thing holding him back was the solider.

"Lad, calm down! If you get onto that rope, ya'll topple down into the water and what good will that do your brother. It's a miracle he is still alive. Just stay 'ere!" Boromir grimaced as he hung there, nearly to the branch yet not far enough to jump onto it. The fact that his brother was now yelling things to him didn't help him concentrate. Getting a better grip on the rope, Boromir took the hand that was further back and grabbed the rope close to the branch. He repeated the action again but this time with his other hand. Straining with the effort, sweat dripping off him into the water hastening below, Boromir finally reached the branch. Sighing with relief, Boromir lightly placed one of his feet onto the wet wood. When he didn't slip, he placed the other one and let go of the rope. He swayed, gained his balance and smirked.

"See little brother, its easy!" he laughed and walking confidently, reached the girl who now appeared to be sleeping. Crouching, he moved away her hair with a gentle hand. She had long eyelashes, the ones that some people would call "a daydreamer's". Her nose was straight and there were some freckles on it. Her full lips were turning slightly blue. Shaking his head, Boromir reached out and picked up the girl. She was heavy, as the young warrior remarked turning back the way he came. There was no way he would be able to get across the way he came. Sighing, he took the knife that hung from the girl's belt and cut the rope from the arrow.

"What are you doing?" Faramir yelled. Boromir rolled his eyes and shook his head. Grabbing the now limp rope, he placed the knife into his boot.

"Pull us back!" Boromir cried as he jumped. Just before he and his charge hit the bubbling water, the rope stretched out and the commander was pulled up. Closing his grey eyes, Boromir silently counted to ten. On the last number, the two young people were pulled back where the hunting party was waiting. Strong arms lifted the girl from Boromir and draped his warm cape over his shoulders. The young man was breathing heavily, sweating and barely listening to anything that Faramir was saying to him. In his eyes he had witnessed his life and death from the waters which he loved so much. His heart raced in his chest, blood pounded in his head as he looked at the angry waters that swept the branch finally from view. Closing his eyes, Boromir swore that he would never again laugh at the knights who rescued ladies. Little did he know that this was just the beginning.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

"_Kel!" Dom yelled as he rode on Winter down the creek, looking with desperate blue eyes at the water. His dark hair was matted with cold sweat, fear as Keladry realized that it was for her. The mare was also covered in moisture, her white flanks dripping with sweat, her breathing coming out of her mouth in small, shallow clouds of air. The blue Own's blanket on the noble animal was slightly ripped in places, a sign that Dom had been riding through the forest and bushes, following the small river._

"_Kel!" Dom yelled once again in despair. Kel cringed as she followed him, flowing lightly above the ground, completely forgetting how uncomfortable she felt when she was higher than a couple of feet of the ground. Though the climb from Bachelor's Needle did cure her fear of heights, Kel still wasn't their biggest fan. As she followed the white mare, she realized just how tiered Dom was. He was flopping around in the saddle, barely hanging on and his head with the charming black locks kept falling to his chest. Winter slowed down into an easy trot, stretching out her neck but the young man didn't seem to care. _

"_Dom!" Raoul's deep voice made Kel turn ninety degrees and she floated closer to the forest to see her knight master ride out, looking just as wary and beaten, Amberfire grunting underneath him from the unusual work. The large man's face was pale, his eyes had dark bags underneath them and he looked sick. A lump stuck in Kel's throat. She never imagined that the Commander of the Own and Third Company could be so worried. "Any sign of her?"_

"_No sir," Dom shook his head, his own face dead pale. Winter stopped, shook her mane and whined. Amberfire pawed at the ground and snorted in reply. The horses were having their own conversation. Jump whined from his basket, Kel noted with surprise and amusement, which now hung from Raoul's saddle. Absently, the large Knight scratched the dog's one lone ear. "I'd keep on looking but I am afraid Winter is run in. If only I could use my spare mount, I could—"_

"_No Dominique, I think you have done quite a lot," Raoul shook his sad head, the droplets of his own sweat falling onto Amber's soaking shoulders. "We couldn't find her and I am afraid we never will."_

"_This can't be sir! I believe that Kel is still alive!" Dom's eyes were wet and shining. _

"_Dominique, listen to me! The Goddess has taken Keladry, be it for the better or worse but there is nothing I can do now," Raoul sadly looked down at Jump who wagged his broken tail half heartedly and wailed. _

"_Sir, how can you say that? This sounds nothing like Kel, nothing at all. She would never be caught off guard and that mean gelding of hers is a squad all in himself. I can't, won't believe that that girl would throw away her future because of some silly thing. Mirthos help us; I don't know how she was able to disappear like that. She couldn't have drowned..." at his last words Dom chocked and looked up at Raoul with eyes that sparkled wet. _

"_I don't know Dom," the taller knight ran a huge hand through his dark curls, his own eyes filling with tears. "Damn it, I don't know anything at all! I wish I knew what happened but Daine is the only one who can ask the animals and I am not sure Jon will grant me such a request over a girl."_

"_Over a girl? Sir, she's a squire, a future knight! Won't the king realise that this is important?" the young man shook his head in disbelief. His commander closed his eyes._

"_Dom, I'm sorry but Jon won't see the need. I can't even ask it as a favor because that would send tongues wagging and then it would make the monarchs look bad. They don't rush to do things and favours for small reasons or a single one." _

"_But sir..." Dom's voice was cracking as he tried to fight back tears. "Sir, this is Kel we are talking about. I can't just give up looking and neither can you!"_

"_We'll try but we have other things to do besides look for my squire. The world isn't perfect Dom and the faster we learn that, the quicker we can move on. Now come, before you and that horse fall down from exhaustion. We will search again later..."_

Boromir had been pacing restlessly outside the door for at least two hours, running his hand through his hair more than once and trying to unsuccessfully calm himself down. Ever since he and Faramir brought the girl back to Minus Tirith and the healer scurried her away with the help of two soldiers, the young man was unable to stop the worry that was ripping him from inside for no particular reason that he could see or name. He wanted to know so much about the young lady, the strange outfit that she wore, the weapons that were with her. He was curious about her because no other young lady he ever met was anything like her. But now his brave young heart was being scratched by the claws of fear because in the past couple of hours the healer didn't leave the guest room and that was a bad sign. Boromir hit the wall with his fist and let an agitated sigh leave his mouth. Why was it taking so long?

Suddenly, quite slowly the heavy door that led to where the stranger left the girl opened and a small man stepped out. His maroon robe indicated him to be a healer, mayhap even a mage. Boromir pushed from the wall and with two long strides ended up beside the elder who just closed the door.

"Will she be okay?" he asked impatiently, making the old men jump. The mage made a sign against evil and twitching turned towards the young man.

"Yes master Boromir," he said slightly agitated. Clearing his glasses the man continued. "The girl, or should I rather say the young lady since she appears slightly older than your own brother, will be fine in a few hours. She nearly drowned but with her frame, strength and the fact that it wasn't," he paused again, looked up at the slightly flushed Boromir and decided to soften the matter. "Well, it wasn't that time of the month for your young friend—"

"Master Grenscove, must you?" Boromir asked as he lowered his eyes in embarrassment to the floor. The old mage shook his head and readjusted his glasses.

"As I was saying before you distracted me with your modesty," Master Grenscove shot the young man a rather amused look, the corners of his eyes cringing ever so slightly. "Your friend should be coming around soon because her body was able to keep out most of the colds and snuffles and your quick rescue made it possible for my own spells to reinforce that."

"Thank you," the young solider breathed out with relief, as he followed the old man down the corridors of Minas Tirith. Grenscove laughed sadly and turned to Boromir.

"Tell me," he said as he stopped to fix his shoe. Boromir stopped as well, not just out of courtesy, but also because the old man intrigued him. "Are you planning to marry that girl?"

"What?" the question caught Boromir completely by surprise. In all truth, he thought about it a few brief times as he carried his mysterious girl home and— did he just call her _his_?

"I saw how worried you were about her. You worry as much about your brother and your father. Do you really think I missed that relief you felt a moment ago or the fact that you were nearly killing yourself with pacing outside the door? No Boromir, though I may look old, I do have good hearing and eyesight. Don't misunderstand me and answer my question!"

"Grenscove, please, keep your voice down," Boromir paled greatly and to his relief the old healer laughed. "I don't even know what my father will decide. I know that Faramir probably told him about the mysterious girl that we found but I am not sure what he'll choose."

"And if he let her stay and become a young noble lady, giving her a title and some land?" Grenscove asked again, looking into Boromir's eyes. "Don't lie to me boy!"

"Yes," Boromir replied, slightly blushing, "Yes, I would marry her if I could, when I could. But I will have to wait and see if the gods will favour me my wishes or if they have other plans for me."

"Then may the gods be with you," the healer smiled and bowing slightly took his leave, leaving the young man to ponder about what he just admitted and to hope for the best.

"Where am I?" Kel asked in her mind. Or was it out loud? She didn't know and she didn't care. She was warm, dry and tiered. Probably a healer rescued her or maybe she was in heaven. Did she even deserve Heaven? Maybe this was Hell?

"She spoke Faramir!" A pleasant masculine voice sounded in the darkness. Keladry tried to remember if she ever heard that voice before. It was painful, perhaps too painful to remember anything besides her name.

"You imagined it Boromir!" a more boyish voice replied accusingly. "You have been here for what, three hours, first pacing outside the door, now sitting beside her. No wonder you are imagining things."

"No, you don't understand!" the first voice shot back angrily. "I heard her!" Kel cringed as she listened to the argument. Perhaps it was time to wake up? Could she wake up? It was worth a try, at least to stop the argument that was about to break out. She wouldn't be able to survive it then. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden light and tried to focus on the person in front of her. The man was young, a bit more than a boy, probably the age most of the boys became knights. His grey eyes were full of concern and reminded Kel of storm clouds right before the rain came; they had the same deep power and calm, yet could hold anger and sadness at the same time. His golden brown hair fell to around shoulder length, making the young man's nose stand out and giving him a rather pleasant and trustworthy appearance. From what Kel could see, he was tall, taller than her and well build like a knight.

"Where am I?" Kel asked again, slightly louder than before. The young man smiled slightly and turned to the youth that suddenly, or as it seemed to Kel, appeared behind him.

"See Faramir?" Boromir, as Keladry realized after a second of remembering, said as the lad shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I told you she spoke. It's good to see you recovering so quickly milady. You are currently in Minas Tirith, recovering after nearly drowning in the Girlain."

"I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?" Kel asked, quietly trying to remember the places she was just named.

"Me? I, well, I'm Boromir son of Denethor, Commander of the Guards of the White city and—"

"Boromir, shut up!" Faramir, or so the young girl guessed, once again appeared behind the older youth. "You could have stopped at son of Denethor. You don't have to confuse our guest."

"No, it's quite alright," Kel tried to protest but Boromir stopped her.

"He's right," the young man lowered his gaze. "Here I am, ranting about my titles when I haven't asked you even how you are feeling."

"Fine, thanks," Kel replied with a small smile.

"That's great," Boromir grinned. "This might seem like a foolish question but who are you?"

"Such a good question," Faramir muttered sarcastically but didn't go on after catching Boromir's gaze.

"I'm Keladry of Mindelan, the youngest child of Baron of Mindelan," Kel closed her eyes trying to remember some details of her life. "I have three older brothers and two older sisters. My mother is a known hero of the Yamani Islands and my father is the royal ambassador between the two countries."

"What are the Yamani islands?" Faramir asked interrupting Keladry and receiving a smack of the back of his head from Boromir. Kel had to smile.

"Um, they are or rather were one of the enemy nations. Then my mother saved their two most sacred swords and my father arranged an agreement. After that, well many things happened. Why, you never heard of the Copper Islands?"

"Not here in Middle Earth," Boromir replied slightly concerned. "We only have Mordor on to the East, Rohan to the West, The Southern Lands to the South and Mountains full of Dwarfs and Orcs up north. There's the Shire and the Elves even further West but that's it."

"So I'm not in Tortal anymore?" Kel gasped as she looked from one to the other. When both young men shook their heads, Keladry started to feel lightheaded again. She managed to see Boromir say something to Faramir before everything went dark once again.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

_April 8__th_

I need to write down my thoughts to keep from going insane. I don't know what happened...I just can't seem to remember. I know that I was watering the horses and then...then what? The next thing I remember was waking up to see Boromir. Okay, I should start by writing down all that I can remember of who I was before I became the adopted daughter of the Steward of Gondor. I am Keladry of Mindelan, the youngest of the three daughters, youngest child of Baron Piers of Mindelan and his wife, Ilane of Mindelan. My Father is a diplomat while my three older brothers, Anders, Inness and Conal, are all knights of Tortal. My two older sisters were presented to court the past midwinter. I am the first female page and squire in the history of Tortal...or rather first official page after Lady Alanna. I have a beaten up dog named Jump and a war gelding named Peachblossom who has a great attitude. Oh, and I also have a flock of sparrows who help me out a lot.

I know that I had many friends until...until...until whatever it was happened. Oh, and there was a time when I had a crush on Neal. He is about Boromir's age if not a year older. I don't know what I would have done without him. He always supported me. Now I find that my best friend here is Faramir, maybe because we are so close in age. Lord Denethor makes us study a lot...but that's fine since I also am allowed to continue in training to be a knight though here in the White City it's a slightly different concept. Oh, and as I am writing this Faramir is looking over my shoulder.

_May 2__nd_

My hair grew too long in the past month. It constantly is in my face and since I never had a problem with it before and have absolutely no way of putting it under control, I couldn't do anything about it. I stormed the castle for three days in this annoyed and angry state, forgetting everything I ever learned at the Isles. But then I felt embarrassed and (after crying in my pillow during the night), I came up with a cold yet reasonable solution. I was sitting in front of the mirror in one of the forgotten rooms, dagger to my locks, when someone opened the door. Surprised and slightly frightened, I turned to face the stranger, trying to keep an indifferent mask on. Boromir took in the situation right away and sighed, closing his eyes with his hand.

"Don't," was all he said after a few seconds and turned to leave. I let out a confused breath but he just smirked. "I like it long," and with that he left. I sat there for a long time trying to understand what has happened in that moment. I guess he accepted me a sister, though the way he phrased that last comment to me sounded more...Oh, I don't know. It's not like Neal or the other boys ever showed any feelings beside friendship towards me. But still...

_June 12__th_

I can't believe it! I am to take dancing lessons and Lord Denethor is not about to change his mind. Oh, and who shall I learn with but with Faramir? I thought that he was mature but I can't believe it. Me and the dance master both had to force him to hold my hand and place a hand on what I consider my non-existent waist. That day I had three bruised toes and was red with embarrassment. Never in my life had I ever lost my temper with anyone.

So now, two weeks later, Boromir stopped to watch as we were in the middle of a waltz. He leaned against the wall, a soft shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. When Faramir once again messed up the steps and stepped on my toe, his older brother pushed off the wall and shook his head.

"Faramir you are forgetting that this is a lady," he scolded as my friend turned to him.

"She's not a lady!" he protested turning slightly pink. "She's a girl! And it wasn't fully my fault because she messed up too."

"Perhaps," Boromir looked in my direction and smiled. "But at least she doesn't show it!"

"If you are so special, you try dancing with her," muttered Faramir but Boromir only shrugged and bowing deeply before me extended his hand.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, his grey eyes playful and yet searching. I have no idea what he was searching for in that moment but after a small hesitation I placed my hand in his.

"Positions!" the quiet until then dancing master raised his hands, cleared his throat, checked to make sure everyone was ready and signalled for the four lone musicians to start the tune. Boromir bowed and from that moment on I was pulled not into a dance, but into something much more. We became one for those two minutes, each anticipating the other's moves and flowing to keep rhythm with them. I was alone with Boromir and I was closer to him in that time than to anyone else. It scared me...

We stopped, I curtsied while he bowed. Boromir took one of my hands and gently pressed his lips to the tips of them. I raised an eyebrow. Then, straightening and dropping my hand, he took out a small penny and threw it to Faramir, leaving me even more confused than before. I will never truly understand that man and while I was thinking, the dance master was jumping around me, praising the dancing and showing his disapproval at Faramir who just shrugged it off. I can still hear his happy exclaims of "Unbelievable!" Oh, and I am happy to say that I haven't thrown up on my birthday which seems a great improvement.

_August 1__st_

I hate him! I hate Boromir with all my heart! I never hated Joren as much as I hate this...this...this stuck up, brave, stupid commander. He humiliated me in front of all the soldiers he could, in front of his father! I hate him! I have never been so degraded in all of my life by anyone. And it all started with the stupid animal he gave me.

Zigzag. That's her name. She's a sleepy eyed bay mare with a white blaze down her nose that gives her that name or that's at least what I thought. Boromir lead her up to me as I petted the nose of Faramir's gelding. At first I thought he meant her for himself, for after Peachblossom that animal seemed almost a disgrace. She was small and light; build for a hunt than the war. Her eyes were sleepy, reminding me of the mare that I had declined on the first day as a page. As soon as she stopped, her ears drooped in two different directions.

"Who's that?" I asked as Sunflight nudged my hand for more caressing.

"Your horse," Boromir answered giving her a whole hearted pat. "You said you knew how to ride, well then prove it!

I nearly laughed at the last comment, but decided that it would be way better if I proved to be in total control before mentioning anything. So, shrugging, I easily swung up onto the small mare, and settled in. Boromir was still holding the reins.

"You can let go now," I said smiling. He shrugged, gave the mare an affectionate pat and left. Faramir swung up onto his own mount.

"You don't have to be so harsh on him," he remarked, as he settled down. I shrugged, knowing that perhaps he was right. After all, Boromir never saw me on Peachblossom, never saw me ride.

"Come on, slowpoke!" I laughed kicking the mare with my heels like I used to do to my pony. That was probably the mistake. Instantly the mare's ears flew forward and she took off, with me barely holding on. I tried pulling on the reins but all that did was...nothing. This mare was incontrollable. I hung on, trying to gain my balance but she ran faster and faster. I couldn't understand why...and I slightly leaned to the side. The animal made a quick turn in that direction, dropping me neatly into the dirt before slowly trotting back to where Boromir was standing, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smirk.

I slowly stood up and dusted the dirt off my breeches, while everyone was smiling or laughing, looking at me with smirks of their own. Faramir trotted up to me, laughing.

"You okay?" he asked, hopping off his stallion, slightly holding onto his stomach but he stopped almost immediately as soon as he saw my face. I sniffed, straightened my back and stormed off to where Boromir was watching with amused eyes. With each step I took his smirk slowly slipped off his face.

"Is this what you call a good animal?" I yelled at him, standing up on my tippy toes and trying to force him to look into my eyes. "Is this your idea of fun? I could have gotten killed!"

"You should have thought before kicking a trained war horse into a full head gallop. I'm surprised she's alive with that careless riding of yours," Boromir replied coldly.

"You idiot! Don't you understand that I don't need a horse that can run! I need a horse that can fight! I am training to be a knight and I don't want to spend time training a new animal!" Boromir gave me an icy glare but instead of answering, whistled for the mare and swung onto the saddle. As soon as he got on and leaned slightly forward, the mare swished her tale and started at an energetic walk out where we were heading with Faramir. Then the mare stopped and turned to face the rest of the audience and me. Boromir demonstratively dropped the reins and immediately leaned back. The mare reared up, kicking with her front hooves out, then took flight from that position seemingly to be directed by thought alone. Smiling Faramir grabbed two swords, swung up onto the huge chestnut and galloped towards his brother.

Tossing Boromir a sword, Faramir too dropped the reins, and nudged Sunflight forward. The two horsemen manoeuvred their mounts in ways I never seen before. It seemed as if the two horses were controlled not by the riders but rather by the thoughts of the two men who concentrated on nothing more than knocking the opponent's sword out of their hand. I stood there, watching the wonderful sight, feeling both embarrassed and influenced by their grace and skill.

"Good job Boromir!" a familiar voice sounded just to my left. I looked to see Lord Denethor watching his two sons. Then, noticing me looking, he gave me a rather upset look. I bit my lip and looked back where Boromir neatly disarmed Faramir and nudged the mare away from the stallion, holding the victory in his hands. Then, both boys trotted back to the waiting group together. Boromir swung off of Lightning, handed the reins to a stable boy, nodded to his father and stormed back into the castle. Denethor gave Faramir a rather cold gaze and headed after his older son with most of the commanders.

"Sorry about that," mumbled Faramir as he started to lead Sunflight back into the stable. I was standing there, thinking back on how easily I lost my cool with Boromir. It was my mistake, I was scared and I yelled at him when he was right. Besides, he was the older one and the more responsible. I should beg forgiveness, now that I figured it out who was right and who was wrong. But only if he says sorry for humiliating me. Only then...

_November 2__nd_

I was sword fighting today with one of the best swordsman in Gondor, the best being Boromir. Well, I finally, after six months managed to win. And it all happened when Boromir was practicing nearby. He observed quietly as Lord German and I parried and blocked, lunged and attacked, feinted and disengaged in a complicated dance that was exhilarating and frightening at the same time, one that was beautiful and deadly, one that was treasured and easily given up. But as we circled, I could feel the grey eyes on my back. I was so absorbed by that thought that I missed a simple motion and my sword went flying from my hand, burning my wrist.

"You weren't focussing," Lord German scolded lightly as I grimaced and went to retrieve the fallen weapon. "You never miss that disengage nor do you seem so distracted."

"I'm fine," I replied, shacking the dust off the blade and walking back. "Let's start again."

"Are you sure you are alright?" the Lord asked taking position.

"Quite," I managed through clenched teeth. Some soldiers exchanged amused smirks, but I didn't notice any of that. All I noticed were the grey emotionless eyes. Boromir was standing behind German, hands crossed, leaning against the wall in his usual arrogant way. I snuffled but focused my anger into my sword. We stood for a few seconds and then...

Block, attack, parry, turn around...duck, lunge, block, try to disengage...We were off again. CLANK! Our swords caused sparks to fly in all directions. CLANK! Sweat dripped down my forehead, sliding down my cheeks. CLANK! My hair started escaping the leather bounds and clinging to my forehead, blocking my vision. CLANK! I started to tire, breathing hard but one look in those cold eyes...CLANK! One look and I forgot about the throbbing pain in my shoulders and arms. CLANK! I did the last desperate thing I could and with a scream made the opponents sword fly out of his grip, the point digging into the sand. As fast as lightning my sword's point was at German's throat.

We froze there, both breathing hard. It wasn't until one of the soldiers started clapping that I lowered my blade slowly to the ground, the fight going out of me. German let out a breath and his face broke into a smile of amazement and awe. Bowing slightly and giving me a comrade pat on the shoulder, he went to retrieve his sword. I just stood there nodding and trying to regain composure as all the other soldiers gathered around, smiling and laughing, congratulating me on my win and clapping me on the back. Then they slowly started towards the barracks where they would be served hot food. After ten minutes, the area became empty. I let out a relieved sigh and turned around. My mouth froze half open as I watched Boromir, his grey eyes still hard.

"You were sloppy," he commented. I stiffened.

"But I—"

"I'm not done," he stopped me by uncrossing his arms and walking over to me. "You were sloppy but-" he looked down then back at me, his grey eyes soft and sad. "—but you did good. This doesn't mean though that it will get any easier, it just means that tomorrow you will be fighting me and I won't go easy."

I stood there with my mouth open. He _never_ spared me a compliment before. Never had he said that I did good. He praised Faramir all the time yet this seemed to be the first time it was just me. To be sure, I slowly looked around, thinking perhaps he wasn't talking to me. There was no one else in the courtyard. As Boromir walked passed me, he paused and pressed something into my hand the quickly continued on, his long legs quickly taking him back to his rooms. I slowly looked down at what he gave me...a rough carved horse with a mighty fighter on its back, hair trailing in an invisible wind. I turned it over and over, admiring the work when my fingers traced some grooved on the bottom. Flipping it to read the letters, heart beating fast, I managed to see the words "forever" and "mine".


	4. Chapter Three

Okay, I am so, so, so sorry that it took so long. Anyway, here is chapter three. I am running a busy schedule but I will try to update soon!

I own nothing but my ideas and interpretation of some of the characters. Everything else belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and T. Peirce! Sadly...

P.S. Cookies to those who read and comment!

Three years have passed. Three extremely long, extremely excruciating and extremely demanding years that Gondor would remember to the rest of its time. The winter left it bare and fruitless; no food grew on the soil that used to be so rich, no farmers could grow even the bare minimum. The food storages were opened and rations issued. The next year was a drought; the wild rivers that usually ran like wild beasts suddenly shrank to small streams. Water was scarce, given mostly to the farmers and the soldiers. Finally, by the time the third year came around, the tired, weather beaten and nearly broken Gondorians were faced with the worst problem yet: the Dark Lord, Sauron, started to slowly try and take over the older cities of Gondor such as Osgiliath. The Orc raids started to become more and more frequent, the amount of soldiers required to stop these raids grew.

Denethor sat in the throne room, looking through yet another stack of reports that dealt with those raids. His brows slowly drew closer to each other, threatening to close contact right in the middle. He started to fiddle with the feather in his fingers, twirling it round and round, until, sighing, he dipped it in a bottle of ink and signed his name at the bottom. Then, quickly stacking the papers in a pile, he moved them to one side and looked up, his grey-blue eyes immediately finding the lonely figure sitting on the steps and reading a book.

Keladry was engrossed in the story of Hurin and his Children, the greatest and fondest legend of all of Middle Earth. She had read all the other books in the library and was trying to find something new when Boromir, who had stopped to rest for a few days before leaving again for one of the raided cities, gave it to her as a present. It was nothing special, just a battered old tome but she loved every single word inscribed in it. She had cried a few times already and had fallen in love with Turin. She wanted to see what would happen to him in the end and she read whenever she had a free moment, not noticing anything around her as she traveled across Middle Earth with this unfortunate man.

Denethor smiled sadly as he gazed upon the young woman that sat before him, her brown hair braided so that it would not disturb her as her light brown eyes gazed at the pages, watering as she threatened to start crying. The plain, loose blue dress that was on her now didn't fully reveal her figure, yet that didn't hide her beauty. No, she wasn't a beauty that everyone noticed, rather something that needed to be found. A small dagger, her dagger, rested on her belt but currently that was the only weapon on her. She almost always had her sword with her or at the very least some of the throwing knifes she became fond of; but never when she spent time inside.

During the four years she had spent with Denethor and his sons, she had transferred from the strange girl from some distant place into a young noble lady who would, in more peaceful times, been a gem in the Gondor society. Though she had continued her knight training and had became quite a good fighter at that, Denethor never let her join Faramir nor Boromir in any of the parties they led against Sauron's forces. At first Keladry resisted, threatening to run away or begging but once Boromir had supported his father and refused to let her come, she had to agree. Slowly, she grew accustomed to helping her adopted father to run the city and kingdom, visiting the hospitals to support those who were hurt, tacking food to the refugees. She became the symbol which carried peace and kindness while Boromir's heroic acts of bravery and tactics officially made him the symbol of hope and justice.

Kel gasped and her eyes widened as she read the end of the sentence. An involuntary tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. _This is what happens when you get attached to characters,_ she thought grimly as she blinked back more tears, _you can't stand when they die._ Suddenly a warm hand landed on her shoulder, making her wake up and look up into the sadly smiling face of the Steward of Gondor.

"Is it when Turin killed Beleg?" Denethor asked kneeling down beside his adoptee. She nodded and closed the book, bringing it to her chest.

"Yes," Kel managed after a moment. "I don't understand why anyone would be that awful to blind someone even for a second! It's so cruel! Before, when I was teased as a girl, I thought that that was cruelty and that I was thought that if I lived over it and made a difference, it wouldn't be that bad anymore! I was so naive! I can't believe how cruel Morgoth was!"

"Not only him," Denethor noted lightly. "You are forgetting the cruelty Sauron had demonstrated before and after he was destroyed and the Ring of Power lost. You are forgetting what is happening as we speak in the villages closest to border with Mordor. Cruelty is not the children teasing one another or the strong defeating the weak. _That _is nature. No, cruelty is what comes and takes the lands and lives and wills of those who have done nothing to anger that person, have done nothing but protected their families. Cruelty is what Sauron is as he attacks Gondor and tries to destroy everything you see."

"Then why can't I go fight that evil?" Kel's eyes blazed as she glanced down at the floor. "Why won't you let me?"

"You know very well," Denethor replied stiffly, standing up and dusting off his robes. "You know perfectly well that war is no place for women, no matter how prepared she thinks she is."

"I've seen death!" Kel yelled, jumping up and turning to her mentor. "I know that I can stand the sight of death! Please, you have to let me go!"

"No and that is my final word!" Denethor turned on his heels and headed back to his throne. Kel shook her head but sighed and started for the door that led out of the throne room. She knew that deep down perhaps her adopted father was right. He cared for her like no one else here. He protected her from almost all the hardships. He wanted her to be happy and yet, here she was, losing her temper about things that were in fact not that trivial. Letting out a breath, she stopped in the hallway and looked out the window. The landscape only wished for better, the grey sky blocking the sun's rays as the birds, those that were left, flew close to the ground in search of food. The white city lay before Kel in all its beauty and splendour, sending waves of peace and protection. To the South though, a dark red cloud was rising from the never dormant Bara-Dur. It made people shiver and gulp and it was what made Kel's heart freeze and become a stone.

Using all her inner will, she turned away from the window and shaking her head continued down the hallway. She stopped in front of the door that led to her rooms and leaned against the dark, heavy wood, resting her forehead against the smooth yet slightly bumpy surface. What should she do? She needed to get all of these emotions out before she faced Denethor again. And where was Faramir? Kel sighed and opened the door. Inside it was plain, but done with style. A bed near one wall, in a corner a cozy chair and a small fireplace across from it. Tall, slim windows that were the norm of Gondor, a large carpet made out of the fur of some animal lay on the stone floor. A small room which was the privy was separated by a door on the opposite side then the fireplace. A small desk sat near the windows and was covered in stacks of books, maps and drawings. Kel's weapons, all cleaned and well taken care of, hung on the wall, gleaming in a deadly way. A painting of two glaive warriors hung over the fire place yet Kel didn't have a glaive. No matter how often she tried to recreate her favourite weapon, it could only last a few blows before falling apart.

A hound jumped out of the chair and raced to meet her mistress. The hunting dog, a small grey thing, was a present from Boromir for her sixteenth birthday when Kel showed some interest in the hound hunts. When Minus Tirith's soldiers went out for a hunt, Kel would join them. To entertain her further, Boromir gave her one of the puppies to train. But that meant more to Kel. It didn't matter who he gave her, what mattered was that it was he and that she wasn't lonely anymore. Hoshi, or so Kel called the hound in the memory of her new mare that she left behind, ended up being Kel's best friend when neither of the young men were around. She accompanied her everywhere. And even now, she jumped around the young lady, teasingly grabbing her skirts and playing tug-o-war.

"Alright, I get it!" Kel laughed, placing the book on the table and giving the dog an affectionate caressing. "You want to go outside. I think that that's a wonderful idea and I'm positive that Zigzag would enjoy a run. Just let me change!" Smiling to her, Kel set about to get ready for a ride, changing the dress for leggings and boots, a loose tunic and pinning her braid up into a bun. After a moment of thinking, Kel strapped on a bow behind her back and grabbed a few of her throwing knifes, spreading them out so that she could easily reach them in case of anything. Whistling to Hoshi, she headed outside.

"Good morning Lady Kel!" someone else yelled as she rode down towards the gates. Kel greeted the young man with a smile and a wave. Everyone followed the young woman with their gazes as she, sitting atop a calmly walking mare with her hound at her side, rode down the main road. Some were brave enough to call out greetings but most just smiled. The children laughed if Hoshi stopped beside them and tried to run their small fingers through her fur. Silently, Kel hated having to move so slowly down to the gates and the freedom beyond but she knew that it helped the citizens if they could see and speak to either her, Faramir or Boromir whenever he was there. So, swallowing her discomfort, Kel smiled and held Zigzag back. Over the three and a half years that she had been ridding, she and the mare became a pair as great as Kel used to be with Peachblossom.

Finally, as Kel with her companions finally reached the last level of the white city, she let out a sigh of relief. Nodding to the soldiers, she pointed to the gate and raised an eyebrow. The captain smirked and shouted an order to open the gates, then strolled over to where Kel sat. Hoshi raised her head and then took off, jumping onto the Captain, nearly knocking him over. Laughing, he pushed her down.

"Some hunting dog that is," he commented, giving Hoshi a thorough scratch behind her hears. Kel laughed along with the captain as her dog's tail became like a mini propeller.

"She's a sweetheart at home but once we're out," Kel whistled. Hoshi immediately came back to reality, sniffing the air as she tried to see what her mistress wanted. "She's one of the best out in the woods."

"And so she should be," The Captain winked at Kel. "After all, you were the one to train her."

"Open gates, milady," a young soldier ran up to the captain and saluted to Kel. The captain nodded.

"Enjoy your ride miss. But be careful. No one knows where those foul beasts are any more. "

"I'll be careful captain," Kel smiled down at the man. He nodded once again and gave Zigzag a slap on the hindquarters. The mare lunged forward, Kel laughing as she settled into the energetic rhythm of a head-long gallop. Hoshi barked and raced after the two, ducking into the tall, dry grass. It was a contest of speed and both animals knew it. Kel just let them run.

The road changed into a path, the path soon came to the crossroads. Kel slightly leaned to the left without thinking, sending the responsive mare down the road that led to where Boromir saved Kel long ago. Zigzag effortlessly flew down the barely visible trail, elegantly jumping over logs and avoiding low hanging branches that could hurt her rider. Hoshi was chasing after small fowl but keeping up with the mare, her grey head appearing and disappearing in the tall grass. Kel herself seemed to be deep in thought, following the horse's movements without thinking.

Kel was remembering, remembering why and how she ended up in Gondor. Actually, she was grateful to have ended up in the white city. From what she had heard from the soldiers and veterans, Rohan was a place of horse lords where women could fight but never did, Bree and the hill country was taken by Rangers who were vary of all that were strange. No one knew much about the elves but it was said that they were in hiding and not a single human lived with them. Gondor was desperate of soldiers and help and so, even though Kel was a girl, she trained alongside all the men. Gondor had not only taken her in, Kel reflected ducking under a branch, it has also captured her heart. No matter how much she loved Tortall, the land that was now fighting a desperate and slowly loosing war had became far more special.

Perhaps it was the people here, Kel thought as Zigzag jumped over a small ditch, perhaps they made her stay. But she knew that was not true. No matter how attached Faramir became, no matter how much Denethor loved her, no matter how cold and stern Boromir was, Kel knew that none of them would hold her back if she wanted to go home. She knew that no one back in Tortall would have wanted her to disappear so strangely. Kel bit her lower lip as she thought. She knew that her parents would be worried though only privately, never showing their emotions in public. She had forgotten how to hide her feelings. It was understandable since no one else did. She knew that Neal and Cleon and Raoul and Dom would all be worried about her. She knew that and she felt horrible since she couldn't even send them a message telling them that she was okay. But deep down she also knew what everyone who hated her was thinking. They were saying that she ran away after being frightened by the weight of the training. They were saying she wasn't meant for the work. They were saying—Kel had to stop herself from giving into her imagination.

Yes, she missed Tortall and yes, she missed her friends but she didn't want to go home anymore. Her home was here. Here, by the side of her patron Denethor, sorting papers and visiting sick citizens. Here, near Faramir with whom they always got in trouble and yet were the best of friends. Here, with Hoshi and Zigzag, her ever faithful companions and silent friends. Here, with Boromir who was...who was he to her? A friend, an older brother, a teacher and a rival? A person whom she hated and loved at the same time? Someone who she owned her life? Someone she could trust? He was too many things; there were too many feelings that associated with him in Kel's mind. He just didn't make sense, none of it made sense.

Kel tossed her head in frustration when suddenly Zigzag reared, startling Kel and stopping midstride. Hoshi was by their side in an instant, her fur slightly standing up on her back, her teeth showing and her hunches lowered in preparation for a jump. Perhaps this is what saved Kel that day—her faithful friends. Maybe it was luck. But about 30 meters from them on the other side of the bushes, marching in semi-straight columns, were Orcs. There were maybe a few dozen but they all were carrying swords and shields and bows with massive arrows. They were grunting under the weight of their equipment but continued marching toward the river. Swallowing her surprise and fright, Kel quickly calculated where the Orcs were going. She had to bite her lip to stop from screaming with anger when she realized they were heading to Osgiliath. She was tempted to race out right now and take a stand with nothing but her hound and her mare but thought better of it. Leaning back, she forced Zigzag to silently retreat. Hoshi remained as the backup, still watching the enemy with eager, hunting eyes.

Breathing out in relief of not being seen, Kel snapped her fingers and sent Zigzag at a neck break speed back to Minas Tirith. Hoshi appeared a few minutes later, running at her top speed, her pink tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. The trio raced against time, raced through the trees and fields and grass. They jumped over logs and small streams, the wind blasting in their faces. They were racing towards the white city, trying to beat the Orcs and to be there in time to send a messenger to Osgiliath. Kel would never be able to forgive herself if she would be the one responsible for the fall of the ancient city. She didn't notice how Zigzag carried her out from the trees and across the grass back onto the dirt road. Somewhere near the horizon there was a rider, coming at a collected pace towards her. Kel didn't seem to notice that rider, leaning closer and closer on Zigzag's neck, forcing the mare to go faster and faster as sweat dripped from her brown hide. Hoshi was racing slightly ahead, her tail raised and her ears catching every sound in the wind. Seeing the rider in a few minutes, the hound yelped and bounded that way, her tail wagging like crazy. Zigzag seemed to recognize him too but couldn't stop in time and raced past, slowly lowering her stride. Kel cursed and turned around.

"That's not the most ladylike greeting you could have said," a familiar voice scolded, riding up closer towards her. "I don't know where you learned these words but I hope my father never catches you using them. He won't be as lenient as me. "

"Boromir!" Kel cried out, her voice a mixture of anger, surprise, happiness and relief. The tall man laughed. "Why are you here? Weren't you supposed to be out in the southwest border? What happened?"

"Keladry! Stop! I can't keep up with all your questions," Boromir shook his head. "I'm here because the guards were slightly nervous with you out alone and the Orcs so close. We just returned back from the border. It's calm there at the moment, therefore there was no point in staying. And as for what happened," the young man turned to Kel with a frown, "I think that it would make more sense if I asked you that."

"You won't believe me," Kel sighed, suddenly realizing how silly her story would sound especially to a veteran such as Boromir.

"Try me," Boromir grinned as both young people turned their mounts toward the White City.


End file.
